


Hey, Mind Killing Me Real Quick?

by orphan_account



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Dad Engineer (Team Fortress 2), Gen, Head Injury, Hurt No Comfort, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Can anybody hear me?” Engineer calls out in futile hope.Out of pure desperation he claws for the wrench, digging a deeper ditch in the mud as he uses all what little strength he has left to get there. The rusty tool merely stares back at him. Taunting him.
Relationships: Engineer & Scout (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Hey, Mind Killing Me Real Quick?

**Author's Note:**

> Dunno why I wrote this lol

Engineer would rather be anywhere else right now. Back at the base, running some experiments, strumming his guitar, have a good time with his team for the rest of the night. Maybe listen to Soldier’s insane ramblings, often accompanied with Demoman’s drunken babbling about this or that. Coerce Sniper out of that van and get him to have just as much fun as the rest of them while Scout runs his mouth about how he totally owned a Heavy earlier.

Wouldn’t that be dandy.

A boulder larger than a full grown horse has the man trapped between its surface and the Earth. It felt like hours since he first got here, vivid memories slowly coming back over time as he lay there in utter defeat. That goddamn _Demo_ had snuck in some stickies near his sentry nest, the blast sending him over the boundary and disturbing the landscape, ultimately sending the stone tumbling down the slope and landing coincidentally on his fallen body.

Both legs and his left arm, completely squashed under the weight.

He’s tried everything — screamed for help at his loudest, louder than Soldier when commands a push that either fails or succeeds. Louder than Heavy, when he’s allowing Sascha to take control of his body, laughing as his enemies drop like flies. Engineer can’t fathom why no one has come to his rescue, where the hell has everyone gone?

He figures the round must have ended ages ago. It’s a mystery to why no one has come looking for him, less they’re none the wiser and assume he’s in his workshop alone, testing strange scraps and science patterns that doesn’t make the same sense to them as it does to him. 

Though he’s not exactly too concerned about himself as he should be. A BLU could stumble over, for whatever reason exploring this hellish jungle, finding him prone and vulnerable to anything — no sentries, sure as hell no dispenser, and most definitely no way to defend himself. Engineer grits his teeth at the thought of being laughed at by the opposing team, be it Scout or Medic, it’s a sad display. 

Trying to rationalize his situation for the fourth time already, Engineer attempts to bend his fingers beneath the boulder, a spike-like pain shooting up his arm. Then he tries to yank himself out, as if that would work after the first several failed attempts. He even tries to dig himself out with his other arm like a shovel. The gunslinger merely digs a pathetic trench at his side, losing his reach and deeming useless, unable to do much from here.

The man huffs as reality starts to sink in. He can’t see too much of himself, but he knows the blood pooling at his pants and overalls is a severely bad sign. On the battlefield death is usually quick and gotten over with, his body being imploded by a rocket or a bullet to the head, more gruesomely being decapitated by a tacky Demo in a wild murder-frenzy.

At this point the Engineer doesn't even care if a BLU shows up. He can’t even shoot himself out of this predicament. His shotgun is lost on the other side of the fence, and his wrench had fallen out of his grasp on the way over, currently a few feet out of his reach.

_Damn it…_

Out of pure desperation he claws for the wrench, digging a deeper ditch in the mud as he uses all what little strength he has left to get there. The rusty tool merely stares back at him. Taunting him.

_Haha, look who’s trynna come runnin’ back!_

“God damn it…” the Texan grunts. He deflates in exhaustion and at the realization he may be stuck here for god knows how long. Waiting to die of blood loss, for the next morning grind, or by sheer luck of someone finding him way out here. The battlefield is hardly even visible at this angle — he can see some bushes and the corner of a building, but no respawn as far as he can see.

“Can anybody hear me?” Engineer calls out in futile hope. The echoes of his voice reaches beyond from which the boulder first came. “Ah’ need some doggone help!!”

…

…

Again, he screams his voice raw for someone—anyone, just… _someone_ help him! He doesn’t want to feel his bones shattering underneath this goddamn rock anymore!

And like the multiple previous times, no one answers him. Not even the birds share sympathy for him — probably waiting for him to kick the bucket so they can make a feast out of how much his body has to offer. Engineer collapses, tired and weary from all the screaming and struggling. His hardhat rolls off his head and joins the distant wrench’s side.

…He’s just so… tired.

All he can do is lie here, waiting for death to set him free.

And he does so patiently. He closes his eyes and expects to wake up in respawn any moment now. The throbbing in his arms and legs has slowly numbed, the pool of crimson reaching his shoulder. How much longer does he have to wait…?

Yet, when the Engineer almost dozes off in that horrific trance, he hears something—his ears pick up the sound of a nearby bush and instantly perks up, looking left, right, all around where he can see, even gaining the strength to slightly lift his torso for a better angle.

“Hello?” he calls out, focused for an answer. “Who’s there?”

A few seconds of silence later, he’s given an answer. From the jungle emerges a child, a boy who looks to be in his teens, in a simple green t-shirt and camo shorts, eyes wide and confused as they stare at the man with ambiguous thoughts. Brunette hair sways with the wind, only to be tucked back behind his ears. The Texan’s head sends him for a loop—what is a _child_ doing out here in the jungle?

“Boy, where in Sam Hill did ya come from?”

The words send the kid back a step. Engineer can see the horror forming in his eyes as he answers with, “I… I heard someone calling for help…”

“That would be me, ah’m in a bit of a pickle, see…”

Unamused by Engineer’s pathetic attempt at a joke, the kid takes a moment to fully understand what’s going on here. He examines the full length of the rock and even stares at the blood leaking from the man’s hidden lower body, until finally having a nice long look at the Gunslinger in place of his right hand. 

“Where did you come from…?” he asks, cautious.

“That’s what ah should be askin’, boy. There ain’t supposed to be anyone out here other than mah team an’ I. Who are ya?”

“I live here,” he deflects.

“By yerself?”

“With my Ma.”

“Yer Ma…”

Well, this is news. If the Administrator knew this kid and his mother were out here, apparently in _walking distance_ from the battlefield, there’s no doubt that this would be the first and last time he sees this child alive. With a heavy sigh and thought, he settles in the silence before looking the kid in his eyes.

“What’s yer name, boy? How old are ya?”

With a hesitant glance he carefully replies, “Matthew. I’m 16.”

“Matthew, alrighty.” Engineer hoists himself up on his right elbow, trying to assume a different position rather than face down on the dirt. “Y’all can call me Engineer. Ah’ know ah’ shouldn’t be statin’ the obvious here, but ah’m stuck. Ah’ve been here for god knows how long, and yer the first to come ‘round in hours.”

Matthew’s tensed position had relaxed just the slightest, both hearing and seeing the full picture of what’s going on here. “I can go get my Ma, if—”

_“No.”_

He made _sure_ to get the point across. No friendly understandings. A curt and terse refusal. The low pitch puts Matthew at a loss, Engineer shaking his head as he realizes what he has to do.

“No matter _whut,_ Matthew, ya can’t tell _no one_ ‘bout this. Ya never saw me. _Got it?”_

The boy gives him a look before responding with a single nod, not questioning the apparent servereness of what he’s found out here all alone in the wilderness. That settled, Engineer moves as far as his waist would allow him before pain shot through him like a stake in the heart.

“Mind givin’ me a hand here?”

Matthew blinks, standing there in a stupor before realizing what the man is getting at. Briskly he rushes to join his side, small fingers jamming underneath the structure and yanking with all his might, gritting his teeth for the extra effort. The feeling of the boulder finally shifting the slightest bit after hours of being in place has Engineer straining to keep the curses to a minimum, ultimately failing and uttering out, _“Shit…!”_

Matthew doesn’t hide his struggle, groaning as he puts his back into it and actually manages to lift the boulder just an inch higher before his muscles fail and drop the structure back to its original position. The Texan heaves at the weight placed on top of him while Matthew catches his breath.

“Y’all alright, son?”

“Yeah… it’s heavy.”

“Heh, ah bet… doesn’t look like we’ll get too far at this rate…”

Agreeing, the kid steps back, marveling at the fact he managed to lift that thing even just a little. “Hey, uhh, Engineer…? I can call for help, Ma said she has a radio in case somethin’ bad happens, I think a helicopter could—”

“Son, ah’m stoppin’ ya right there,” Engineer interrupts, glowering darkly. “Ah have to be somewhere by _tonight._ If ah can’t git outta here in the next hour, there’s gon’ be hell for me to pay.”

But Matthew looks as if he’s heard the craziest shit in his life. “What do you mean? You need medical help, don’t you?”

“Matthew, ah need ya to listen to me very carefully. When this situation is settled, ah need ya to go home and never come back here again. This is a dangerous area, especially for ya. Ya hafta promise to _never_ speak of this to _anyone_ , yer Ma included. Understand?”

Matthew looks like he might pivot and run, yet stays put as he takes in the information. Engineer makes sure to look him in the eyes, explaining the seriousness with looks instead of words. Gulping, Matthew nods once more, a nervous force overcoming him. Happy, the man flashes him a smile for good measure.

“Good.”

With the gunslinger’s fingers dug in the mud, Engineer gestures to his wrench a little ways away. “Ah need ya to pick that up fer me.”

Matthew complies, holding the large tool in his hands.

The unsuspecting look in his eyes makes regret and guilt pool in the man’s gut. Matthew even holds it out, to hand it to him, only to be confused when Engineer shakes his head.

“Matthew,” he starts with a sigh, his voice a pressure tougher than Soldier’s commands. “Ah need ya to take that and bash mah head in.”

In hindsight he probably could have worded it a little nicer, because Matthew does _not_ take it well. As if he malfunctioned, the boy blinks several times before pure terror takes over and stumbles back several feet away.

“W-what?! No! I’m — I can’t! I can’t do that! Why—?!”

“Matthew, listen—”

“No!” he retorts. He drops the tool to the floor just to get his hands off of it. “I’m not doing that! I can get you help! I’m not killing you, sir!”

“We’ve been over this,” Engineer says with a glare. “There ain’t no way ah’m gettin’ outta here without permanent damage, let’s just put it that way. Don’t ya know it ain’t right to leave an animal alive while it’s sufferin’?”

“This isn’t the same thing! You’re a person, I’m not killing another guy! What would I — what would _Ma_ say?!”

“Yer Ma ain’t gonna say a _thing_ , because _ya ain’t gonna tell ‘er squat.”_

“But—!”

“Boy, listen, there’s a river right over there. Wash yerself off when yer done. Ah don’t wanna be stuck here for any longer. Ah’d rather have it done and over with.”

He isn’t sure what exactly compelled him to talk to him like he was setting Scout’s manners right. Matthew kind of just stands there for a moment, shaking like a leaf as he glances between the wrench and the man he’s found. He’s obviously scared, what with the amount of fear plastered on his face and the way he hugs himself for comfort. It reminds Engineer of how he used to be as a kid, always being made fun of for being short and nerdy and always afraid of being picked on.

But this isn’t middle school bullying — this is murder.

And Matthew genuinely seems to understand that fact. He remains quiet for another minute or two before looking the Texan in the eyes and whimpering out, “You won’t hate me for this, will you?”

He grins back, warm and genteel. “Of course ah’ won’t. Ah’d be thankful for ya.”

Matthew doesn’t seem to be feel any better.

Warily and gradually he bends back down to retrieve the fallen wrench. His hands are shaking so bad he almost drops it again, now holding it tight in his hands as he carefully approaches Engineer, whose head is turned to the side in the dirt. The hardhat is abandoned behind.

“Much obliged, Matthew.”

Matthew does not reply.

The boy’s shadow displays his movements, head turned away as he brings the wrench up and over his head, swinging it down onto the man’s head with a resounding _clank!_ He cringes at the pained grunt of the man below him. The second action is slower, hesitated, cracking Engineer’s eyebrow, a streak of blood rolling down his face.

_“Goddamn…”_

“I’m so sorry…”

Engineer would feel empathy if he weren’t getting his brains beaten in right now.

Matthew hisses as he brings it down a third time, harder yet sloppier like he’s halfassing the effort to actually bring himself to kill.

“That all ya got, kid?”

A fourth time, harder than the last, square on the skull, and the man can actually feel his vision swirl. A fifth time, the strikes getting more and more violent as Matthew slowly gets accustomed to the motion, yet Engineer can’t stifle the pained noises no matter how much he tries to save Matthew from it. Wet streaks of blood trail down his head, several marks where the wrench hit appearing in lumps.

He can’t see what Matthew’s doing, but he can hear the boy huff and puff like he’s just finished a marathon, and Engineer can’t believe he actually asks: “Are you still alive?”

“The fuck— _yes_ ah’m still alive! Ya gonna finish the job?!”

“I can’t do it…”

“Boy, ya sure as hell _can!”_

If Soldier has influenced him, he’s done a good damn job of it. Engineer braces himself as he continues to beliger the kid into shattering his skull, like an angry mom who just found out no chores were completed while she was away from home. At one point Matthew must’ve hit him out of frustration, almost like he was offended that a stranger was telling him what to do.

Black dots start crowding Engineer’s vision, rougher and more forceful hits battering him like rain in a thunderstorm. Soon he feels his skull give way—can hear it cave with a sickening _CRACK!_ as he’s drenched in the smell of blood and mouth flooded with an iron taste. His eyes roll as if he’s having a seizure, the feeling of the wrench unrelenting, and he knows for a fact that Matthew’s clothes aren’t so clean anymore.

“Keep goin’,” he manages to grit out. “Don’t stop ‘til ah’ ain’t movin’ no more.”

That seems to do the trick. Matthew’s already committed to this once and for all, getting more and more forceful, like he’s beating a dead animal off the side of a road. Engineer starts seeing stars when the kid hits a vital area in the back of the head. He can see the shadow and notices he’s taken a different position, almost a batter-like stance in baseball. The wrench comes down again and again, _crack!_ after gruesome _crack!_ replacing the sounds of nature. Birds drown themselves out. Must be thrilled to see a snack being prepared for them.

Eventually, it all comes to a threshold and Engineer can’t keep himself awake long enough to let the kid know when to stop. He rolls into unconsciousness, his head throbbing like salt in an open wound, brain feeling like mush in a cracked bowl.

…

It takes a moment for him to realize where he is.

It’s as if he’s woken up from a nightmare, standing in respawn, heart pounding with his hardhat back on his head. Both his legs and his right arm are good as new, nothing out of the ordinary, as if they were never crushed beneath a boulder for hours on end in the jungle.

The respawn is just like he remembered, and he can hear the sounds of his teammates just outside the doors. He sighs in relief, finally realizing he’s back where he belongs. No more humid jungle weather.

He doesn’t know what happened to Matthew, but if he took his advice, he’s probably out there washing himself off right about now. Ready to go home and tell his Ma how much fun he had chasing squirrels, probably.

When he steps outside respawn, he finds Sniper looking his way, brows raising, before nudging the nearby Scout. Once Scout lays eyes on Engineer, he rushes over with a, “Engie, great timing, look, Medic’s been lookin’ for ya, seems serious. Where da hell have ya been?”

Engineer simply grins at Scout, relishing in the joy of seeing a familiar face again after too long. “Nowhere ya need to be too worried about, Scout. Ah’ll go see what Medic wants.”

Scout quirks a brow, but doesn’t ask anything to put more on the table. Engineer excuses himself to visit Medic’s lab, not mentioning a word about Matthew whatsoever. He probably will never see that kid ever again, and that’s perfectly fine with him.

It was an encounter he’ll spare details for in another life.

**Author's Note:**

> open opinions and comments are appreciated


End file.
